


"we've seen things. you and me"

by aromaalibro



Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Season/Series 04 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:26:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aromaalibro/pseuds/aromaalibro
Summary: their confrontation is in the alt-world.
Relationships: Juliana Crain & John Smith
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	"we've seen things. you and me"

**Author's Note:**

> title extracted from the monologue delivered as john smith dies.

the bell rings and john smith tenses. 

he is alone in his bedroom with a background jazz music slipping from underneath the door. its a beautiful melody, both foreign and forbidden. he hates that it makes him miss dancing. and outside, under the spotless sky, children laugh, riding in bicycles around the neighborhood. he is safe, he says in silence, taking a deep breath. they are safe.

and yet even in this promising, bright world there are still nightmares that haunt him at dark and ghosts to unnerve him at daylight. people irritate him more than ever. with their deranged politics and sheltered lives, they say ‘life is hard’ and expect concession. john wants to show the real face of the peace and its cost and watch the blood drain from their faces. he wants to tell them, he had been close to a god once. but he is no one and if that’s the price he must pay to hold helen’s hand and watch his son practice basketball in the yard, then be it.

because john smith should be dead.

minutes later, steps approach the door and helen’s soft blonde hair shows itself, like the apparition of an angel to a believer: 

“you’ve got a visitor” she says. he beams at his wife and stands from the corner of the bed to follow her, the way he had not followed other helen. other helen who did not smile, other helen whose hand is softer but untouchable. other helen who is lost.

helen gazes at him once, from behind a blonde curl and her eyes are soft and loving. they taste like forgiveness and it makes his bitter, angry heart hopeful. she turns in the corner to the dining room and he wonders who’s is this time. a friend of hers? they come in hordes. he passes his hand through his hair twice, feeling it thinner than ever before. he sees thomas sitting in a chair, sipping tea, and angry, bitter heart is not that rough again. the faint trace of cinnamon in the air gives the scene a homely quality he can never get enough of. yet for some reason, the smell also triggers buried memories of him in a distant past. a feeling he cannot name settles into him and helen speaks, making thomas turn and curve his mouth to a grin. he is not listening, not seeing. for a moment, the rest of this universe fades away, all colors and shapes unnecessary noise. as his heart and soul remember who they are, they both remain breathless, the woman sitting in his chair at the table and him. 

“john” helen nudges him and the world blinks back into existence. thomas gives him his back again and grabs the rest of the buns from the table and shoves them on his mouth. it is okay, he thinks to himself. it is not okay. he smiles politely.

“john” a short laugh, because why wouldn’t she. the whole universe shakes but she stands straight “my god, are you so asleep? greet her! she came to see you!”

juliana crain shakes her head, a strand of hair lose on her shoulder. has she ever danced? her small gestures always have a grace in them no one else achieves. she is looking at her with a twinkle in her eyes and john notices that thomas left hand rests comfortably close to her right one. oh, yes. they were _friends_.

“it is fine, mrs smith-”

“helen, and he needs to behave like an educated person again.”

“juliana” john manages to get out and her eyes are now piercing his “how great to see you well” and he moves towards her with arms open. for a fraction of a second, he thinks she will leave him there, before standing up and hugging him. her hair smells of cinnamon (there it is!) and her body is awkward with their history. history he hopes his family does not see as they touch. when they are separating, they both smile the way wild animals measure the other’s fangs. 

she moves the chair again to sit. he feels an expectancy, perhaps even a disappointment she had no weapons on her. but what is she gonna do? pull out a gun and shoot him here? if this helen is her friend, juliana sure knew how protective of her furniture she got. what a failure of a rebel juliana is, her heart going before her mind. 

his wife places a hand on juliana’s shoulder and it’s her turn to flinch. it’s an almost imperceptible move, but he sees it. he sees everything about her.

“you need anything, love?” 

“you are a wonderful hostess, but i am fine”

helen laughs.

“not as wonderful as you think. i am leaving you,” she shakes her finger at john, who sits next to his son “may is waiting for the tea, and i trust you will behave in the meantime.” 

“please, return shortly” john says and helen kisses his husband’s forehead before wandering off. thomas mutters something to juliana, before standing up.

“i’ll be in the yard” and thomas sends him a last glance that completes the sentence to ‘as far away as I can from you’. really, it’s a loving gesture children do. and he leaves the room, his father staring at his figure until he disappears behind one of the walls. 

john frowns and turns his attention back to his former enemy. the stubborn rebelion made flesh, the woman he had chased at the cost of his life. she doesn’t look cornered here in his house. her chest rises and falls evenly and her face is obscured by her hair again, while she folds her used napkin and places it under her plate. he watches her raise her chin and stare back. no, not cornered. she is powerful.

he clears his throat: “well, i’m surprised-”

“you really thought this would save you?”

her voice is a mere whisper, but they hang on the room and he has to stop for an answer. he presses his back to the chair and juliana leans forward bringing the sweet smell of cinnamon comes near again. her skin is a paler shade, ghostly white up close. he has seen her face so many times, in pictures, in dreams, he could draw her freckles from memory eighty years from now.

“salvation.” he tastes the word on his mouth “that’s not something i’m looking for. are you?” 

juliana’s eyes become as cold as steel and satisfaction floods him. he finds himself reaching out for a tea bag, not his favorite blend but will do, while continuing: “you think killing me will atone you for the things you have done. that some cosmic balance will erase your mistakes in exchange for letting me pay for them.” he raises an eyebrow “it won’t.”

“give me one reason i shouldn’t try.”

“the fact that we are having this talk is enough.”

“what i am looking for” she says “is justice.” she sweeps him up and down and something akin to disgust escapes her face “you don’t deserve being here. wearing his clothes, breathing his air-”

“he is me.”

“no. he was a good man, you are the monster who murdered him.”

god, what a disappointment. john takes the teapot in the middle of the table and pours out hot water. his cup is old, not at all like the ones back at his apartment. but it has a personality. the image of him buying a cup from a store because he liked it, instead of other people buying an entire line of silverware, is stranger than fiction.

“is there any difference between men and monsters? you” he gestures to the window to the main street “who unlike this world, know what war makes out of humanity.”

“that’s your excuse?” her voice indignant “it was all because of war?”

“i had a duty-”

“you will always be a nazi, in and out of war.”

“a duty” he repeats between teeth “to protect my family.”

she shakes her head and a crack slips through his facade. a desperation mixed with anger. she is clever enough to understand, yet why can’t she see it? juliana leans back and as if to tie her shoelaces, and he catches a glimpse of a purse next to her feet.

john forces himself to breath and tries to make it easier for her.

“would you rather make the choice to let your family starve to death? please, don’t get shy.” he adds to throw away importance to what was the most goddamned important thing in the universe. in both universes. in all of them.

“i have made hard choices. but you did not do that. you kept on going. you went for power.” 

“power to keep my family safe from people like you and your fake promises.” he hisses “you brainwashed my helen, you turned her away from me, you-”

“helen left because saying there was nothing humane in you anymore” and the air shifts with both of their angers. weaker people might have trembled, but not them. “helen took her children because she was scared.” 

in silence, they had come closer. he felt the gun’s point embedded on his leg and his eyes widened. the stupid purse. god. how sloppy of him. he clenches his teeth and watches as she shows hers in a feral grimace.

“one reason, john smith.”

he stops playing around and goes for her throat.

“thomas” he begins “talks only wonders about you. you know” he barks a laugh “first time here, i thought it was only a silly crush, but it turns out he actually feels affection for you.”

she is evaluating him. one step wrong and he falls.

“you don’t have to kill me. i’ve covered that one for you.”

confusion, the gun losing pressure on his leg.

“what are you talking about?”

“i made a deal.” 

“explain.”

he waves his hand, dismissing it. 

“ _our_ dear thomas signed up to fight in the war. i managed to change his recruitment for mine. you understand, juliana, i’m a dead man walking and i want simple things, like to spend my last days with what remains of my family”

“this is not your family.”

“well why won’t you shoot me then? you say you are justified. act on it.”

he feels her hand shake slightly on the gun, like his used to after the war, when he had been assigned mission after mission. the war never ends, the bodies never stop coming. her answer is enough, so he continues.

“i only want to take care of my family. you will never see me again, i promise.”

a dog barks in the distance. she hides the gun behind her. slowly she moves her seat and gets on her feet. he does the same.

“i don’t trust you, john smith. you leave death and hate in your path and i will not let you taint this world with it.”

“remind me then, how is the rebellion doing? i seem to recall your victory is as stained in blood as mine was. and now that you hold good, old ‘merica, what do you think will follow? how will you control a territory that big, how will you keep it running?”

“it will be hell” she agrees and tilts her head to the side. so delicately, so pure, “but so are all things worth fighting for.”

almost against his will, he moves a lost strand of hair behind her ear and in a swift movement, she catches his wrist in her hand. her nails pinches his skin but he smiles.

“i wonder how long until you end up like me.”

“i’ll never be like you” juliana says, her face into a stone without emotions. she loosens her grip on his wrist and her eyes take a glazed-over look. why does she resist? can’t she see he would never judge her? no, if he were to admit it to himself, he is _glad_ she came. she had been a fierce and elusive contender in their world, now she is a comfort.

juliana lets his hand go and takes a step backwards. the lighting draws attention to her dark eye bags and the shadows on her cheeks. then she snaps back into focus, her face distorted into the perfect mask again. she grabs her purse and walks out of the room, slamming her shoulder on john’s torso before he can understand what is happening.

“juliana” he calls and rushes next to her. 

“juliana” he repeats, catching her at the doorway and blocking her path out.

“i’ll shoot you” she says out of breath and her hands threaten him with a fight. 

“no, you won’t” john opens the door for her and walks her out of the house. in the front yard he watches her leave, furiously, and he thinks she still has some way to go. the rebels held no possibility of holding on to the other world, they had not last without a strong figure to guide them. there’s hope for her and he wishes to survive the war to see her evolve into the only person apt to succeed him. 

yes, juliana crain will be the great reichsführerin their country needed.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know where this came from, just be nice. comments/kudos greatly appreciated! thanks!


End file.
